


the fallible nature of mortal memory

by hanshin (Echo_Enzo)



Category: Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, dagoth ur fecking dies, following the idea that emphasises the dream/non corporeal aspect of dagoth urs existence, maybe? idk, not necessarily romantic but....
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29240745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Echo_Enzo/pseuds/hanshin
Summary: Dagoth Ur has a final moment of humanity with the Nerevarine before fading into his true endless sleep.
Relationships: Dagoth Ur/Indoril Nerevar, Dagoth Ur/Nerevarine
Comments: 7
Kudos: 15





	the fallible nature of mortal memory

There was no more fighting to be done, it was clear, as Lord Dagoth Ur, the god, devil, and dream of Morrowind did not even attempt to claw away the latest stab into his body. Gripping Keening, hands burning with an ice-cold heat, I found myself gripped, frozen in my place. The stress and exhaustion of this war had finally come crashing upon me in the form of an avalanche, though I screamed at myself to strike again, and make sure he was truly, truly dead, before he could cast a trick that would erase everything, before everything I have done became meaningless.

Yet, if he had such an opportunity to pull one last hurrah, he did not take it. The rise and fall of his chest stuttering in and out of existence, the hole left by the warmth that did not emanate from his flesh - it was as though the first time the world saw Voryn Dagoth as a mortal in thousands of years, it doomed him to be little more than a shadow fading in rising light. Though he was less present in the physical world now than he was mere minutes ago, it felt as if all the smoke and mirrors, every slight of hand, had been ripped away, leaving a harrowingly unfamiliar vulnerability in its wake.

Someone inside of me ached to grab his shoulders and scream at him and demand answers and plead for some show of reason, clutch the last remnants of him tightly and then kill him all over again. One final condescending laugh, perhaps, to cement him in his evils. 

"Nerevar."

To prove this was right.

"Let me ask," Voryn Dagoth murmured, "one more thing of you. It seems my fate is indeed a cruel one, though I tried." 

He reached out to me, fading in all his eternal and finite glory, and whether to kill or caress me, I did not know. Somewhere in between, it would seem, since if his hands were attempting to reach for Keening, they fell short onto my fingers instead. So terribly soft and smooth, unaffected by the rock and ash he swallowed in, an aching peek into a reality where his mind was identically as untouched.

"Mourn the Sixth House, Lord Nerevar." Rumblings and groans of Akulakhan falling apart became louder, more demanding. "Mourn what we were, and what we could have been," he said.

"I will," I exhaled, waves of sorrow from a place I could not name crashing against my ribs. What expression was he making, I wondered? I so terribly desired to remove the mask shielding his face; I trembled moreso at the thought of finding nothing behind it. "Of course, I will mourn you. I will mourn you every moment I live. I have mourned you, my dear Voryn, for centuries."

A flash of wavy blurred dreams swam through my mind's eye, colours and smells I'd never known, but yet had defined to me the concept of 'home'. A man whose face I could not quite see, whose loving touch burned in its distance from me. Reading scrolls I could not decipher, relishing in the taste of meals I had never seen. The man before me, whom I hated more strongly than I could tell, whom I loved more deeply than I could bear.

Finally, my hands traded their slickened grip on the sword to the ashen and red fingers so close to them, clammy and desperate to soak up whatever remained of the memory of a dead man.

"If I am sorry for anything," he breathed out, voice barely audible from the vanishing existence, "it is for us, and that we could not have done things differently." Sweat, or tears, trailed down my face in rivers. "Perhaps one day, we will both be reborn, and maybe it will not have such a bitter ending. If the gods were ever to grant me one last mercy, I would ask it be that." I realised I could not help but beg for the same.

"Perhaps I will ask a favour of Azura," I whispered to him, "since I imagine she will be grateful that I have killed her enemy, Dagoth Ur."

To that, he laughed, a deep and all-consuming rumble that blurred with the echoings of Red Mountain. Both nowhere and everywhere at once, Dagoth Ur was falling into the deepest sleep, and it may have been naught more than a trick of the imagination that felt a squeeze on the finger that bore Moon-and-Star -- the hope that now, perhaps, the swirling tides of Morrowind may finally feel the relief of a pleasant dream.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it... my first fanfic for this fandom and my first fanfic in many many years so its a very pleasant and small return to a form of content that i love :) this game has locked me into an iron grip and has not let me go. now all i do everyday is think about dagoth ur saying come nerevar. i cant escape.
> 
> BUT YES... hope this was alright and was an enjoyable little read.. i hope to contribute more to this fandom in the future.. thank you so much for reading


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